| Your hidden talent is writing
Your hidden talent is writing. You have a unique way of viewing the world and are able to express your thoughts eloquently on the page. Some people might think that you are weird, but you are just the next Pulitzer prize winner. |
The Pulitzer huh? Hmm… maybe I should take my notebook along my trip to Kota Bharu. Maybe I’ll have a stroke of genius ala JK Rowling during the 9-hour bus journey. Wish me luck people 
Glad you like it happening to you.
I hate it, happening to me = s
Previous post’s comment by Muthu
At 20 years 10 months and 3 weeks old, I never really thought my erratic mood is one of those growing up signs. Maybe he is right. Maybe I am growing up and trying to be more self reliable.
On the bright side of things, I can’t wait to get out of my always ackward teenage years. Yes, it does feel like I’m peeling off an outer shell. It’s exciting because I now know more of myself. A sense of who I am without being defined by someone else like I always have been. In the past, for people to remember me, I almost always have to mention Fadil or B. Then there was this saying someone conned up; “Where there is Balqis, there is always Nadia.” I’m trying to shed all of that because I am my own person. Yes, I love my friends but they do not define me 100% as a whole person, do they?
The dark side of growing up? I might actually have to teach myself to be brave and drive myself around. Heheh.
To Muthu: Don’t hate the whole thing because you’ll end up hating it more and it’ll probably consume you. You don’t have to love it either. Just accept it as it is. You have a lot of great friends you can count on and you’ll always have a friend in me if you ever need a willing ear to hear you out. *Hugs*
I’ve feel lonely lately, even when my housemates are around.
I don’t feel like I’m particularly close with anyone these days. Not even Fadil. Not even B. Not even Bal.
I know it sounds crazy, but I kind of like it.
Lately, I feel like crying even when there is nothing to cry about.
I don’t want to have a shoulder to cry to. Not even Fadil’s. Not even B’s. Not even Bal’s.
I know you’re worried. Don’t be because I kind of like it.
My sarcasm and temper really bites these few days and some people are hurt.
I don’t care what they think. Not even what Fadil or B or Bal think.
I know it’s not really me but I kind of like it.
Dear God, stop these swings.
I don’t think everyone can take it.
But make it stop gradually, because I kind of like it.
